The Sufferer and the Witness
by VoicesOffCamera
Summary: It has been four years since Soda had been drafted to fight in the war in Vietnam. It has been three and a half years since he was captured and held prisoner by enemy soldiers. Now, returning after being a POW Soda is forced to deal with what happened to him while trying to cope with the time that was taken from him. [Sequel to Days Slide and the Years Go By]
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! I'm back! Haha. For those of you who don't know, this is the third part in a small series. I wrote _Days Slide and the Years Go By_ first as a one shot. But I couldn't leave it at that, so I wrote a prequel to that called _Define Your Meaning of War_ which is basically a series of 11 one shots leading up to the original one shot. Now this is a sequel to the original one shot. It will have a more linear plot and picks up right where _Days Slide and the Years Go By _left off. Basically that original one shot could be the first chapter of this story. So if you hadn't read anything else in this series, I strongly recommend at least going and reading _Days Slide and the Years Go By._

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ Those of you who have followed along with this series please keep in mind that _Define Your Meaning of War_ was designed to just be snapshots of what happened while Soda was in captivity. Obviously 11 chapters couldn't really cover every single thing that happened over the course of three and a half years. So I reserve the right to have new things pop up in this story.

One last thing just before I usually forget to do this, the title The _Sufferer and the Witness_ was inspired by the name of an album by the band Rise Against.

Okay now that all that's all out of the way, I am very excited for this story and I've been working very hard on it. Please don't forget to review! All reviews are wonderful motivators.

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_**The Sufferer and the Witness**_

**Chapter One**

"Soda? Sodapop? Wake up."

Sodapop Curtis immediately tensed on instinct. His eyes were still closed but he was aware of the sensations around him. He was slumped partway over in a seat of some kind. There was a hand on his shoulder. Someone was speaking to him. The voice was what caused him to pause and kept his panic at bay. It wasn't commanding and angry. It was gentle. There was no hint of a Vietnamese accent. After all these years that voice was still familiar to him.

Soda squinted his eyes open, shying away from the bright sunlight. It took his vision a minute to adjust, as he was used to waking up in a dark cell. He looked over to see Darry next to him, standing outside the truck with the door open. Ponyboy was standing behind him. Soda was still in the truck, apparently having fallen asleep on the way home.

_Home_. It was hard to believe that after all this time he really was home again. It had been four years since he had last been here. Four years since he was drafted to fight in the war in Vietnam. A war he never wanted any part of. He had fooled himself into thinking that being drafted would be the worst thing that could happen to him. That potentially dying in a foreign country would be the worst thing that could happen to him. He had been very wrong. Being captured by Vietnamese soldiers and held prisoner for three and a half years had been. Held prisoner… and brutally tortured.

Quickly Soda pushed those thoughts away. That wasn't something he wanted to think about right now. He just wanted to live in the moment and be happy that at long last he was home.

Slowly Soda shifted on the seat and pushed himself out of the truck, his feet landing firmly on the concrete. Darry backed up to give him some room. Soda looked up at the house in front of him. At a glance it was like no time at all had passed. He looked at the same front porch, the same unkempt lawn. However as he looked closer he could spot the signs of time. The paint seemed more chipped and the walk seemed to have a few more cracks in it. Life clearly had gone on while he had been gone.

Soda made his way up the porch, hearing the steps squeaking loudly under his feet. He rested his hand lightly on the railing for balance. He still wasn't used to moving around so much and noticed how quickly he tired. It felt so strange to be out and about in the world again.

Inside the house was comfortably familiar. It was like walking right into one of his dreams that he had back in his cell when he imagined home. The stained carpet, the old recliner, the lumpy couch, the little black and white television. Everything was the same, though admittedly a little more worn. It was almost as if it had been waiting for him here this entire time.

Darry came up beside him carefully. "Welcome home, little buddy," he said with a grin.

Soda tried to smile back at him, but the expression felt out of place on his face. "Thanks, Darry." His voice was quiet and careful.

"Here you go, buddy." Two-Bit was suddenly on his other side, holding out the small duffle bag he had brought home with him. Soda had almost forgotten that Two-Bit and Steve had been in the back of the truck.

"Thanks," Soda said as he took the bag. Nothing in this bag was really his. He hadn't had any personal possessions in three and a half years. In the bag were only a few essentials the government had provided him with while he stayed at the military base for debriefing. He felt no attachment to it.

"We did a little shuffling with the bedrooms," Darry told him. "I'm in mom and dad's old room now and we moved Pony into my room. So you can have yours and Pony's old room." He paused. "We thought it would be good for you to be somewhere familiar."

Soda digested that for a minute. Of course, Pony was older now. He wouldn't need his big brother with him at night to keep away the night terrors anymore. How old was Pony now? Nineteen? Twenty? He felt too embarrassed to ask. It was going to take awhile to get used to how much time had actually passed. Somehow it felt like too much time had passed while simultaneously feeling like no time at all had passed. It was very disorienting.

Soda took a breath as he walked forward, heading down the hallway toward the bedrooms. After he was almost to his and Pony's – though now it was just his – bedroom he realized that he probably should have said something rather than just abruptly walking away. He wasn't sure what he should have said though. It was almost like he didn't remember how he was supposed to interact with friends and family anymore. He paused as that realization hit him. It scared him.

He shook the feeling away quickly, trying his best to ignore it. He pushed open the bedroom door and walked inside. It was a very surreal moment, like stepping back in time. Everything in here was familiar, from the bedspread to Pony's drawings tacked to the wall to the dresser in the corner. The only obvious indication that Pony had left this room was that his desk was gone. The more Soda looked at the empty space where it once was the more glaring it became, making him uncomfortable.

Soda tore his eyes away from the spot and moved over to the bed. He carefully sat down on the edge, letting the bag fall down to the floor by his feet. He closed his eyes for a minute and just focused on his own breathing, letting everything else melt away. He opened his eyes again carefully, half expecting the dark, empty cell he had become accustomed to seeing come into view. But it didn't. His bedroom still lay before him. He felt his breath catch in his chest. This was real. He was home.

"Soda?" Soda looked over sharply to see Pony standing in the doorway. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Soda dropped his gaze quickly and looked down at his hands. They were shaking. "Soda, are you okay?"

Soda deliberately curled his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. He wasn't sure what to say to Pony. He just kept staring down at his hands. He realized that he had been quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time when Pony carefully sat on the bed next to him. He knew he had to come up with something to say. "So… y-you graduated? High school?" His voice came out timid and unsure. He was still trying to get used to conversation.

Pony paused. Soda could sense him looking at him but he still didn't look up. "Yeah, I did," Pony said and Soda could hear the smile in his voice. "I did the whole cap and gown thing and everythin'." He hesitated. "We got pictures. You could look at them sometime."

Soda nodded. Four years with his family had been taken away from him. He could look at photos of what he missed, but he would never get that time back. "Yeah, that'd be good." He glanced over at Pony briefly. "What about college?"

"Yeah, I got into college," Pony said a bit eagerly. "I commute to the local community college. I'm almost done with my second year."

Soda smiled lightly. "That's really good, Pony. I'm real proud of you." He took in a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. There were several minutes of awkward silence where neither of them seemed to know what to say. "I'm sorry it's just… a lot to take in."

"I know," Pony said sympathetically. "It's okay though. You're here now. That's what matters."

"Thanks, Pony," Soda said. He paused. "It's been a really long day. I think I'm just gonna lay down for a while."

"Yeah, okay," Pony said, nodding at him. He reached out a hand as if to pat him on the shoulder but as Soda tensed he seemed to think better of it as he dropped his hand back down. He stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Soda stared for a long time at the closed door. Suddenly his heart was racing. His breathing became shallower. This was silly… this was _his_ bedroom. It shouldn't make it him nervous to be in here with the door shut. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. Then suddenly without really thinking he was on his feet, hurrying over to the door. He turned the knob, feeling relieved as he turned easily in his hand. Slowly he pushed the door open just a crack, feeling himself breathe easier, the knot in his chest loosening. He turned and headed back to the bed. _His_ bed. It was an odd feeling having things belong to him again. He kicked off his shoes and slowly lay down. He shifted around for a minute, finding it hard to find a comfortable position. It was strange how after three and a half years of sleeping on the ground he had gotten used to it. Even though he had longed for a bed while he had been a prisoner, when he had been at the military base the past few nights he had ended up sleeping on the floor next to the cot they had given him.

He really was exhausted. He hadn't slept at all on the bus ride here. It had turned out to be a very tense experience with everyone shoved into such a small space. He had felt trapped and bumping along the highway had toyed with his frayed nerves. So he had been awake for the past twenty-four hours. Despite not feeling completely comfortable in the bed, his exhaustion was getting the better of him as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

XxXxX

"He okay?" Darry asked as Pony walked back into the living room. Darry had settled himself in his recliner while Two-Bit had sat on the couch. Steve, as usual, had positioned himself standing up against the wall. He never seemed to like to get comfortable.

"Um… I think so," Pony said with a shrug. He sat down on the couch next to Two-Bit. "I mean… I dunno. He was pretty quiet. He said he was tired and was gonna lay down now."

"He slept all the way here," Steve pointed out.

"Yeah, but he's been through a lot," Darry said.

Pony shifted uncomfortably. "I saw… scars on his wrists," he said quietly. "On the way here when he held my hand, I could see them." Everyone was quiet and no one would quite look at him. Pony wasn't stupid; he had heard the stories about what kind of conditions the POWs lived in over there. But still, it just seemed like it should have been different for his brother. It was just so hard to wrap his head around and he couldn't help but ask the question. "D'you think they hurt him?"

In the silence that followed the question he heard a rustling coming from down the hall. Curious, Pony stood back up and walked back over so that he could peak down the hallway. He distinctly remembered closing Soda's door when he had left to try and give him some privacy, but now the door stood ajar.

"What is it?" Darry asked, looking over at him.

"I closed his door when I left," Pony said, turning back away from the hallway. "He opened it again. I guess he didn't like it closed." He fell back onto the couch heavily. "I didn't even think of that." It was hard to imagine his big brother confined to a cell for the past three and a half years, but that was the reality of the situation.

"It's gonna take a while to get used to this," Darry said. He sounded tired all of a sudden. "For him and for us. We just gotta give it some time."

"Do you think?" Pony asked looking over at him. "Do you think it'll get better with time?" They had all been so happy to see each other at the bus station, but here at the house an awkwardness that Pony had never felt with Soda had set in.

"Sure it will," Two-Bit spoke up easily. He was lounging lazily on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. "I mean, it ain't like he was just away on vacation for four years. But now that he's home I'm sure everythin'll be fine." Two-Bit had always been the optimistic one throughout all of this, the one helping Darry keep everyone together and even stepping up when Darry faltered as well. Strangely enough, even though his grief had been apparent, Two-Bit had been the steady one through all of this.

"We'll give him some space for now," Darry said. "We'll get him up to eat later. He's… lost a lot of weight."

Pony nodded. At a glance it had been easy to just be happy to see Soda as simply alive. But now it was sinking in how Soda hadn't exactly come back to them whole. This wasn't going to be an easy adjustment. They couldn't even begin to imagine what he had been through.

"How are we supposed to help him through this?" Pony asked quietly.

"We'll figure it out," Darry said.

"It ain't pretty," Steve suddenly mumbled. Pony looked over at him sharply; he had almost forgotten he was there. "What they do to the prisoners in the camps over there."

"What do you mean?" Pony asked slowly, not quite sure he really wanted to know the answer. "How do you know?"

Steve sighed and ran his hands over his face. His features had a very far off look to them. It was a look they had seen many times from Steve over the years when he was distracted. Pony had long ago begun suspecting that it meant Steve was remembering something from the war.

"Nothin'," Steve mumbled. He pushed himself off the wall and turned. "I'm goin' out for a smoke." He walked out, letting the door slam behind him.

Pony exchanged glances with Two-Bit and Darry, both with the same look in their eyes. When Pony got to his feet and hurried after Steve, he could hear Darry and Two-Bit right behind him. Outside they found that Steve was sitting on the top porch step, a lit cigarette already in his lips, that same faraway look in his eyes like he was somewhere else altogether. Two-Bit and Pony hung back while Darry walked down to the bottom of the porch stairs and turned back so that when he looked at Steve they were almost at eye level.

"Steve, if you know somethin' about what went on in those prison camps, we really need to know too," Darry said firmly. They had always been careful to not push Steve when it came to things related to the war. It was always a touchy topic for him and he never showed any desire to talk about it so the gang had respected that and left the subject alone. But the circumstances had changed. They couldn't have any secrets right now.

Steve looked up at Darry for a minute as if considering him. Then he glanced back at Two-Bit and Pony before resting his elbows on his knees and hunching over slightly. He inhaled deeply off the cigarette, exhaling smoke before he spoke.

"Guy came outta nowhere." He made no eye contact, staring down at his cigarette as he spoke. "Just stumbled outta the jungle one day. One of the rookies almost shot him." He made a sound like a laugh, but it had no humor in it. He looked up very suddenly, meeting Darry's eyes. "He was an American soldier who had escaped one of those prison camps. He was… in bad shape. Turns out he was only held for a few months, but from the way he talked about it, well, it was downright cruel. Inhuman even."

"What did he say?" Darry asked slowly.

"He said he was kept in a bamboo cage, his hands and feet tied. They would beat him and whip him if he did even the slightest thing wrong. He had these slashes on his back that were inflected and filled with puss. He said the man he had been captured with was beaten to death. He said they seemed to like to beat up on him more because he was weaker from his injuries." Steve shuddered at the memory as he took a long drag off his cigarette. "To think that Soda went through something like that for three and a half years… You know, he may never be the same again."

"But he's home now," Pony spoke up, unable to stay quiet any longer. "He survived and he's here with us."

Steve turned to look at him. Pony was surprised to see the emotion in his eyes. Clearly seeing that POW in the jungles of Vietnam and knowing that Soda had been through something worse shook him down to his core. "Just because he survived doesn't mean that he'll ever be okay with what happened."

Pony bit his lip as he shifted uncomfortably, his stomach twisting with anxiety. Everyone was silent for several minutes.

"Well, we're gonna do everythin' we can for him," Darry finally said steadily. "That's all we can do right now."

Steve nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'm just saying… don't expect it to be a cake walk."

"When has anythin' ever been a cake walk for us?" Two-Bit asked casually as he leaned back up against the house and lit up his own cigarette. "Which is a damn shame… 'cause I really like cake."

There was a split second of silence and then Pony felt a burst of laughter slip through his lips. Darry rolled his eyes as he cracked a smile. Even Steve made a snorting sound that was as close to a laugh as he had gotten in a while. Leave it to Two-Bit to lighten the mood. Despite the joking though, Two-Bit had made a valid point. The Greasers had never had it easy. Maybe that made them more prepared to handle tragedy. Maybe that would work in their favor and would help them to get Soda through this.

"What are you up to tomorrow, Two-Bit?" Darry asked.

"Just my usual tricks," Two-Bit said.

"Think you could come hang out at the house with Soda tomorrow?" Darry asked. "Me and Steve are workin' and Pony's got classes and I don't really think we should leave him by himself all day."

"Hey, I work too you know!" Two-Bit said indignantly, though he was smiling.

"Yeah, you tend bar for a few hours at night," Darry said, rolling his eyes. "You're the only one around during the day time."

Two-Bit laughed at that. "Yeah, I'll come hang out with him."

"Just take it easy with him, okay?" Darry said.

Tw-Bit rolled his eyes at that. "Glory, Darry, I ain't gonna challenge him to a wrestlin' match right off the bat or nothin'. Relax, I got this."

Darry smiled at him. "Yeah, I know."

It had been a very long road that they had traveled since Soda had left them for the war. It had been a hard journey that they had to take between coping, grieving and hoping, sometimes all at once. It had been the agony of not knowing that had tortured them. The relief they had all felt when they found out that Soda would be coming home was indescribable. But this was just the beginning of a different journey. This wasn't over yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all who have reviewed this story already, it really means a lot to me! Please continue to review and I will continue my regular updates. :)

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**Chapter Two**

As much as Darry didn't want to admit it, it was strange having Soda home. They had spent years getting used to just him and Pony in the house with Steve and Two-Bit as visitors. Darry had to remind himself to make five portions for dinner that night instead of four. He knew that although he was indescribably happy to have Soda home again it was going to take some getting used to.

Soda had stayed holed up in his room for most of the day. But for now Darry was decidedly giving his brother some space. He reminded himself that up until about five days ago Soda had been a prisoner of war, locked up in Vietnam in who knows what kind of conditions. It had to be a shock to the system to suddenly be back home again after three and a half years in captivity. For now all he could think to do was give Soda some privacy to figure things out on his own. One thing he wouldn't do though was let Soda skip dinner. He had lost far too much weight and just didn't look healthy.

"Hey Soda," Darry said gently as he pushed Soda's bedroom door open. He was a little surprised to see Soda sitting on the floor leaning up against the bed. He had his knees up, his elbows resting on top of them and looked up at Darry almost curiously as he entered. "You hungry? Dinner's ready."

Soda nodded slowly. "Yeah, sure," he said. He turned and put his hands on top of the bed to use as leverage to pull himself to his feet.

"Need some help?" Darry asked, taking a half step forward.

"I got it," Soda said as he slowly pulled himself up into a standing position with some difficulty. He paused, seeming to steady himself for a moment before he followed Darry out of the room.

All five of them gathered at the kitchen table for the first time in four years. Darry had made baked chicken since it was Soda's favorite and then also made peas and rice. He noticed as they started eating that Soda began to reach for the food with his hand before he caught himself and picked up the utensils. He struggled a bit with trying to cut up the chicken and Darry almost offered to help but somehow he felt like Soda wouldn't be too keen on being treated like a child. After a minute he seemed to get the hang of it anyway. Still, it sent a pang through Darry to realize that Soda apparently hadn't been allowed utensils while he was held captive.

The gang ate in silence for a while, which was very out of the ordinary. Two-Bit was the one who finally broke the silence, starting a conversation with Pony about his classes. Darry was easily able to join in on that and Steve even spoke up as well. They kept to light topics and did their best to talk normally as if nothing had changed. They were about halfway through eating before Soda finally spoke up, seeming to relax a bit. They were all encouraged by this and eagerly took turns telling Soda about events that he missed while he had been gone. Soda asked for more and more details about things that had happened, almost as if he were trying to create memories that he didn't have.

After they were done Pony got up and started collecting everyone's plates so that he could do the dishes. When he got to Soda's though he started to reach for it and then hesitated.

"You done, Soda?" Pony asked a little unsurely.

"Yeah, I am," Soda said.

Darry eyed the plate. Soda had eaten most of the chicken and had picked at the peas. But it appeared like he hadn't so much as touched the small pile of rice on his plate. "You sure you don't want to eat some more rice or somethin'?" Darry couldn't help himself. It concerned him how thin Soda was.

Soda paused, his expression darkening a bit. "I don't like rice," he said quietly.

That took Darry by surprise for a moment since he knew that Soda had no problem with rice before he had left. Soda had never been a picky eater, even when he was little. "Sorry, Soda," he said slowly. "I won't make it anymore. You want somethin' else?"

Soda shook his head. "No, I'm full."

Darry decided to just let the issue go for now. He didn't want to push Soda too much on his first night home. The mood lightened after dinner. They sat around and played cards for a while and then Darry brought out a chocolate cake. Soda had smiled as he practically inhaled his piece, going back for seconds. That put Darry more at ease, and everyone else too it seemed.

Soda retired to bed early, clearly exhausted. The rest of them stayed up a little longer, but they were all tired as well. No one had slept well while Soda had been missing, that much had been obvious. Even when they knew he was back and safe, it was still hard to sleep before he was actually here and Tulsa with them. So it wasn't that long after Soda went to bed when Steve and Two-Bit were heading out and Pony and Darry went to bed. And for the first time in four years Darry didn't lay awake tossing and turning, wondering about his little brother's safety. He was home. And he was safe now. And that was enough to lull Darry into a peaceful sleep.

XxXxX

Hours later Darry was woken from a light sleep by some muted noises coming from out in the hallway. He was confused at first as he slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily. As he listened for a minute he didn't hear anything else and figured that someone probably just got up for a glass of water or something. He was just about to shake it off and go back to sleep when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone getting sick down the hall.

Darry quickly pulled himself out of bed and hurried out into the hallway. In the darkened hallway he could easily spot the light flooding out of the bathroom, the door left slightly ajar. He carefully approached and could just glimpse Soda's form leaning over the toilet as he vomited again.

"Soda?" Darry said carefully as he knocked lightly on the door even though it wasn't fully closed, hoping not to startle him. Soda made no indication that he had heard him.

Darry slowly pushed the door open. He was about to say Soda's name again but stopped short as he got a good look at him, his stomach plunging down to his feet at the sight. Soda was wearing a pair of jogging pants but despite the cold weather he had no shirt on. His bare back was almost completely covered with long, angry red scars. His spine protruded out as his skin appeared to cling to his bones and Darry could have counted the vertebrae from where he stood several feet away. Although his weight loss had been obvious, Soda had appeared to be in pretty decent shape earlier that day while he was fully clothed in long pants and long sleeves. With that image of him it had been easy to imagine that Soda had been nothing more than contained for the past three and a half years. Now it was painfully obvious that that wasn't the case at all though.

Darry's knees suddenly felt weak and he leaned up against the wall in the bathroom and then slowly slid to the floor, feeling a bit sick himself at the sight. He had always found it hard to see either of his brothers hurt and this was way beyond anything he had ever seen before. Soda was still dry heaving over the toilet but Darry made no move to get any closer to him, afraid of scaring him. Instead he was a silent spectator to the scene, simply waiting for it to end.

Finally after several long minutes the episode seemed to end. Soda carefully sat back on his knees and put his hands on either side of his head with his elbows resting on the edges of the toilet.

"Soda?" Darry said carefully. Soda mechanically turned his head to look at him. His eyes, which used to be so lively and full of energy, were disturbingly empty as if he were completely detached from the situation. "Soda? You okay?" It seemed like such a silly question – clearly he wasn't – but Darry didn't know what else to say.

Soda nodded vaguely, his face unreadable and void of any obvious emotion. This wasn't at all like the brother who had left here almost four years ago. Wanting to comfort him somehow, Darry carefully began to move forward but at the same time Soda shifted away from him. Darry took the hint and remained where he was, feeling like he was at a complete loss. He had no idea how to handle this.

"You got sick?" Darry said lamely, grasping at anything to say. He was extremely uncomfortable with how silent Soda was being.

Soda swallowed and then slowly turned his body, carefully leaning up against the side of the tub behind him. Soda's front wasn't in any better shape than his back. Darry could see Soda's ribs sticking out and there were two red, swollen spots on either side of his abdomen that looked like pretty severe burns. The disturbing part was that they still looked pretty fresh, no more than a few weeks old.

"I'm sorry I woke you," Soda practically whispered, his voice flat.

"It's okay," Darry assured him gently. He studied him for a moment. "Can I feel your forehead? You look a little flushed."

Soda thought this over for a minute before he nodded. Darry approached him slowly, leaving him plenty of space as he reached out and gently placed his hand against Soda's forehead. As he made contact Soda closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. Just as he had suspected, Soda felt feverish.

"You're warm, Soda," he said as he dropped his hand back down.

Soda opened his eyes and looked at him. The emotionless gaze sent a chill through Darry. "I've been sick a lot," he said quietly. "When I got back here they sent me to a doctor. He said it sounded like I've had dysentery on and off for the past few years."

"What's dysentery?" Darry asked.

"Some kind of infection I guess," Soda said. "He said it might take some time for me to really get healthy again because of…" His voice trailed off as it seemed he couldn't finish his thought.

"Well, you're home now," Darry assured him. "We'll get you better again."

That caused a small glimpse of life to spark behind Soda's eyes. It was hidden in an instant though as he hung his head, looking down at his hands. His wrists were both scarred and as Darry watched he saw that his hands seemed to be shaking slightly. He seemed to be deep in thought for several minutes and Darry just watched, unsure what he should do. Then Soda slowly reached out one hand, placing it on the wall next to him. Suddenly he paled and his back went rigid as he sat straight up. His eyes darted around the small room and he gasped for a breath.

"Soda?" Darry said unsurely, startled by the sudden shift.

"Can we go outside?" Soda asked quickly.

"Sure," Darry agreed immediately.

He stood up and carefully approached Soda. He reached down and helped him to his feet and he felt Soda lean on him as if disoriented. Darry noticed vaguely that Soda seemed a few inches taller than he used to be. He slowly led Soda out of the bathroom and down the hall. After they passed through the living room Darry carefully pushed open the door and the cool night air met them. Soda lifted his head and took a deliberate breath. Darry could feel a small shiver run through Soda's spine as they stepped out onto the porch.

"I'm gonna get you a coat," Darry said. "It's too cold to be out here without a shirt."

"Okay," Soda said vaguely as if he were barely listening.

Darry helped Soda sit on the top step before turning and walking back into the house. He grabbed the first coat he could find, not wanting to leave Soda for too long, and hurried back outside. Despite the cold Soda wasn't curled in on himself in an attempt to keep warm. He sat up straight, his back rigid as he stared out across the empty street. Darry approached him, noticing the way he flinched as he came into his peripheral vision.

"Here," Darry said gently, leaning down and putting the jacket over his shoulders.

Soda glanced over at him briefly. "Thanks." Carefully he maneuvered his arms through the sleeves of the jacket. As Darry sat next to him he noticed with concern how the jacket hung off of him. He had always been pretty lean, but now he was sickly thin. It was disturbing to see.

"You know, Soda, if you ever wanna talk about it… about what happened over there…" Darry said slowly, letting the thought hang.

Soda glanced over at him and shifted uncomfortably before letting his gaze fall back down to the ground. Darry couldn't help but notice how little eye contact Soda had made since he had been home. Just that small fact showed that Soda had much more than just the physical scars. Despite that as Darry studied him – his blank eyes, his hard expression that masked any emotions, the way he held himself – he saw how much older he looked. He had been gone for four years, but it seemed like he had aged so much more than that. Sitting next to him Darry had the slightly uncomfortable feeling that suddenly he was the younger one rather than Soda. It was a very strange feeling.

He was quiet for so long that Darry figured that he wasn't going to say anything. So when he did finally speak Darry gave a start. "It's… it's weird bein' home," he said quietly. "After all this time, I never thought I'd be home again. I keep thinking that maybe it's just another dream. Maybe I'm gonna wake up any minute and suddenly be back… there."

This thought caused Darry's heart to twist. Carefully he moved closer to Soda, reaching over and placing a gentle hand on Soda's knee. As Soda looked up at him he could suddenly see very clearly the pain in his eyes. It was more pain than Darry could even try to begin to understand. But more than that there was also fear, afraid that somehow none of this was real. It was painfully clear that he was terrified that at any moment all this would fade away and he would find himself back in that hell.

"You're home, Sodapop," he said gently. "I promise you this is no dream. You're really here with us."

Slowly Soda reached out a hand and placed it on Darry's arm, as if to prove to himself that he could really feel him. Then he leaned into him and Darry gingerly wound his arm around him. Soda pressed himself into his chest and Darry held him close. Very suddenly it was like Soda was a little kid again, looking for comfort from his big brother after getting picked on at school. It was startling how quickly the feeling of Soda being older had flipped with the feeling of him being young again.

They stayed like that for a long while. Eventually Darry realized that Soda's breathing had evened out. As he looked down at him he saw that he had fallen asleep with his head resting on Darry's shoulder. Darry smiled lightly at the sight. He looked peaceful. As carefully as he could Darry shifted around and put one arm under Soda's knees and scooping him up in his arms. He was much lighter than he should have been.

Soda moaned lightly, sounding a bit distressed. "It's okay, Soda," Darry said gently as he carried him back inside. "You don't wanna sleep out on the porch all night, do you?"

Soda made a grunting noise and went still again, clearly drifting back off to a deeper sleep. Darry carefully maneuvered through this house with his brother in his arms. Back in Soda's room Darry gently placed him on the bed. He seemed to half wake up again as Darry pulled the jacket off of him but clearly exhaustion was more prominent than his concern for what was going on. Darry averted his eyes from the scars on Soda's skin as he pulled the blankets over him.

As he started back for his own bedroom, he paused in the doorway, glancing back at Soda who was sleeping soundly. "It's gonna be okay, little buddy," he said quietly. Then he turned, closing the door only partway, and headed back to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Two-Bit squinted against the sunlight as he walked up the street. He wasn't used to being up this early. He hadn't worked last night, but his sleeping pattern was still to stay up late and then sleep until the afternoon. Today was different though. He knew that Darry was concerned about Soda being by himself today, so he made the effort to get up at a reasonable time. It wasn't like it was really a chore though. He had missed Soda as much as everyone else had, so he looked forward to spending time with him.

As Two-Bit approached the house he saw that Darry's truck and Pony's car were both gone already. Two-Bit knew Darry would have left for work hours ago, but it looked like Pony had an early class too. He hoped that Soda hadn't been alone too long. He had a hunch that Soda had had enough of solitude over the past couple years.

Two-Bit jumped up the stairs of the porch but before he could get to the door he was startled by a voice off to his right.

"Hey, Two-Bit."

Two-Bit turned sharply and was surprised at what he saw. Soda was sitting on the ground at the far side of the porch leaning up against the house. He had one leg up with his arm resting on it and one leg stretched out.

"Glory, Soda," Two-Bit laughed. "Scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," Soda said, just a hint of humor in his voice, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

Two-Bit walked over to Soda, studying him curiously. "Ain't you cold?" It was late February in Tulsa, the weather just beginning to shift to spring but still definitely jacket weather. Soda sat on the porch in his jeans, bare feet and a short-sleeved t-shirt.

Soda looked down at himself as if the thought had just occurred to him. "Yeah, I guess a little."

"Wait here a sec," Two-Bit said as he turned and headed into the house. After hunting for a few minutes he found a jacket hanging in the closet. It looked like it was probably Darry's but it would do. He headed back out to the porch and walked over to where Soda sat, plopping down beside him, handing over the jacket. "Here you go, buddy. Nice and cozy."

"Thanks," Soda said.

Two-Bit watched as Soda pulled the coat around himself. As he did Two-Bit couldn't help but notice the dark red scars that circled both of his wrists, which stood out boldly against his pale skin. He realized that Soda had never been that pale before and wondered if he had even seen the sun in the past three and a half years. It was disheartening to think about.

"Better?" Two-Bit asked as Soda settled himself. Since the coat was Darry's it almost swallowed him whole, making him look even smaller than he already was. Soda simply nodded, his eyes unfocused. "What're you doin' out here, anyway?"

Soda stared straight ahead and was quiet for a minute. "I just… like the fresh air."

Two-Bit, who had a comment for everything, wasn't sure what to say to that. They sat quietly for a few minutes before Two-Bit finally pulled his pack of Kools out of his pocket. He shook out a cigarette and placed it in his lips, casually lighting up.

"Can I bum one?" Two-Bit was surprised by Soda's sudden question and it took him a minute to realize that he meant a cigarette.

"Yeah, sure," he answered. He held out his pack and Soda took it. It wasn't unheard of for Soda to smoke so Two-Bit tried not to think too much of it. Soda was a little shaky as he lit up but as he inhaled the smoke he seemed to relax. They were quiet for a few minutes as they smoked. "So, what d'you wanna do today?"

Soda glanced over at him briefly as he thought it over. Then he shrugged. "What do people do?" His voice was flat as he spoke.

"Well… lots of stuff," Two-Bit said slowly. "We could go down to the DQ. We could go to the movie theater. Toss around a football. Whatever you want to do."

"Whatever I want," Soda repeated almost wistfully. "Can't remember the last time I had that option."

"Well, you've got it now," Two-Bit said brightly, trying to lighten the mood. "We can do anythin' you want. Just name it."

They lapsed into silence as Soda seemed to think that over for a few minutes. "Can we just go for a walk?"

"Sure," Two-Bit agreed easily, finding this to be a very easy request to fulfill. He got up and headed back into the house, bringing Soda's tennis shoes back out with him. He had to do a little hunting to find them, over the years most of Soda's stuff had been packed away in closets out of sight. Two-Bit watched as Soda pulled his shoes on and then struggled a bit with the laces. It was all the little things where you could see evidence of just how inhuman the conditions that Soda had been kept in had been. Two-Bit felt angry when he really thought about it. It was so frustrating. When Johnny had been whipped by the Socs they had at least been able to try and track down the ones who had done it so they could get revenge. There was absolutely nothing they could do to the people who had captured and tortured Soda for the past three and a half years.

As they walked along through the neighborhood going nowhere in particular, Two-Bit chatted incessantly to fill the silence that Soda had left. It was strange for Soda to be so quiet, but as Two-Bit looked over at him he seemed contented to listen, occasionally offering up his own questions which Two-Bit gladly answered.

They had been wandering for about an hour when Soda was starting to visibly tire as he began dragging his feet along. Despite him clearly being exhausted, Two-Bit found it odd that he never once spoke up about it or asked that they rest. They happen to be near the DX station so Two-Bit figured that would be a good place for a rest, plus they could pop in to see Steve as well.

"It hasn't changed much," Soda commented as they approached the station.

"Nope, it hasn't," Two-Bit agreed. "C'mon, Steve's probably in the garage." Two-Bit took a few steps toward the garage before he noticed that Soda wasn't with him. He turned to see Soda hesitating on the sidewalk. Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow at him, confused. "You comin'?"

"Yeah," Soda finally said as he started forward.

Two-Bit glanced at him unsurely as they walked. "You okay?"

"Just kinda tired," Soda said with a shrug.

"Well, we'll just hang out here for a little bit and rest, then we can head back to the house."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Soda agreed as he shoved his hands into the pockets of Darry's jacket.

They walked into the garage and the loud screech of a drill met their ears. Soda froze in the doorway, his expression darkening. Two-Bit put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a look to stay put. Then he walked more fully into the garage, following the sound of the drill until he came across Steve's feet sticking out from under a car.

"Steve!" Two-Bit yelled, tapping Steve's foot lightly with his to get his attention.

Steve jerked in surprise and the drill immediately cut off. His head popped out from under the car, looking pissed. "What the hell, Two-Bit?" he demanded loudly.

"Well, how else am I supposed to get your attention?" Two-Bit said calmly.

"Glory, what are you even doin' here?" he asked angrily. "Weren't you supposed to be hangin' out with Soda today?"

"I am, he's here," Two-Bit said simply as he jerked his head toward where Soda stood behind him.

Steve looked a little confused as he scrambled the rest of the way out from under the car and stood up to get a better look. They both looked over to see Soda still hovering in the doorway, looking a little unsure.

Steve's features immediately seemed to relax a bit as he took in the sight of his best friend that before yesterday he hadn't seen in four years. "Hey, Soda," he said, his tone much calmer than it had been with Two-Bit. "Sorry, didn't see you over there."

"Pretty loud in here," Soda said slowly.

Steve and Two-Bit exchanged a glance. "Yeah, I'm due for a break now anyway though." Steve walked over to the workbench and picked up a rag, wiping the grease and oil off of his hands. "What're you two up to anyway?"

Two-Bit glanced over at Soda and saw that he wasn't going to answer. "Just walkin' around," Two-Bit said easily.

Steve nodded. Then he looked back over at Soda, cocking an eyebrow. "You can come in, you know. You don't have to stand in the doorway." He indicated a nearby stool. "You should sit. You look pretty tired."

Soda was very still for several long seconds, his eyes unfocused as he seemed deep in thought. Then very suddenly he was shaking his head and backing up like a trapped animal. "No, I'm just gonna go," he muttered quickly, his eyes looking down. He tried to turn away so suddenly that he stumbled over himself and toppled to the ground hard. But not before Two-Bit caught the look of his face. He suddenly looked terrified.

"Soda!" Steve exclaimed as he ran over to him, Two-Bit right on his heels. The sight had been especially startling since Soda still looked so frail and like he could easily break apart with how thin he was. Steve dropped down next to Soda as he was sitting up and reached for him but Soda pulled away. He dropped his hand back down. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just tripped," Soda mumbled, not looking at either of them. His face had been carefully blanked of any obvious emotion, no trace of the fear that had showed so clearly just moments before.

"Well yeah, we saw that," Two-Bit said slowly. He studied Soda for a minute and saw with concern that suddenly he seemed pale and shaky. "C'mon, you ain't lookin' so good. Let's get you home, huh?"

"Okay," Soda said quietly. Slowly he pulled himself up to his feet. Steve stood up with him.

"You guys can take my car," he said, digging the keys out of his pocket and handing them over to Two-Bit.

"Thanks," Two-Bit said sincerely. He was glad he didn't have to worry about whether or not Soda would make the walk home.

"You'll come over later?" Soda asked, looking over at Steve.

"Yeah, I'll be over after work," Steve assured him, smiling lightly. With how distant Soda had been since coming home Two-Bit could tell that Steve was relieved at this gesture that Soda still wanted him around.

"We'll see ya later," Two-Bit said with a wave as he started heading around to the back of the DX where Steve usually left his car. Soda followed behind him. They climbed in and Two-Bit was starting up the car before Soda finally spoke.

"I'm sorry… about what happened," he said quietly.

Two-Bit looked over at him carefully. "What did happen?"

Soda glanced at him sideways before looking down at his hands in his lap. "I dunno. I just feel so… overwhelmed."

"Well, you've only been back for a day," Two-Bit pointed out, trying to sound light. "I'm sure with time things will start feelin' normal again." He shifted the car into drive and started off, consciously driving much more carefully than he normally would.

They were quiet for several minutes. "What was it like?" Soda spoke up suddenly.

Two-Bit glanced over at him, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. "What was what like?"

Soda inhaled. "When I was gone. What was it like here?"

Two-Bit gave a start. He certainly didn't see that question coming. Up until that point they had only spoke about superficial things, events that Soda had missed and glossing over any negative aspects they had experienced because of his absence. "Well… it was bad. Really bad."

"Yeah, but… what was it _like_?"

Two-Bit sighed. He knew what he was referring to. "We were all pretty much wrecks. For a while we had to take turns just trying to convince Pony to get out of bed in the morning. Darry was hardly sleeping at night and he started having these fits of anger. Steve's anger just got worse and he drank his weight in alcohol every day for a while. It… wasn't good, Soda."

Soda closed his eyes momentarily as if he were in pain. "Did it ever… get better?"

Two-Bit thought that over. "Things started evening out after a few years I guess. We had our good days. But we never truly felt whole." He had pulled up in front of the Curtis house at that point. He put the car into park and turned to look at Soda. "You have no idea how much we needed you to come back, Soda."

Soda glanced over at him and then looked back down at his hands. "You have no idea how much I needed me to come back," he said quietly. "I really… didn't think I would ever make it home again."

"Well, you did," Two-Bit said firmly. "You're here with us. And everythin's gonna be okay now. You'll see."

Soda looked at him and gave him a weak smile. "Thanks, Two-Bit."

"Hey, we're here for you, man," Two-Bit said with a grin. "Now c'mon." He threw open the car door. "How 'bout we scrounge up some lunch?"

"I'm really not that hungry," Soda said as he climbed out of the car. They started up the walk toward the house. "I think I'm just gonna go lay down for a little bit."

Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow at him. It was well into the afternoon by now; it didn't make much sense that he wasn't hungry yet. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Soda said as he walked up the porch steps.

"Okay," Two-Bit said with a shrug. After knowing that Soda had been in captivity for so long, Two-Bit certainly didn't want to be the one to try and make him do something he didn't want to do.

As they entered the house Soda went right down the hallway to his room. Once again he left the door ajar. After Two-Bit watched him go he headed back into the living room and turned on the television, turning the volume down low before he settled himself on the couch. But as he stared at the television his mind was someplace else entirely. He was thinking back to the incident at the gas station and the look of panic that had crossed Soda's face just before he had fallen. Clearly something was wrong, more so than just feeling overwhelmed. Two-Bit had simply been happy to see Soda alive and in one piece when he had finally come home… but now he couldn't help but wonder what his friend had been through the past three and a half years. And now much of his friend had actually come back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Darry was tired. He had been up the night before with Soda and had a hard time falling back asleep. Then he had been up early the next morning and had worked all day. Thankfully the site manager had noticed Darry's exhaustion and knowing the circumstances with his brother he had sent him home a little early that day.

As Darry pulled up to the house he was surprised to see Steve's car parked out front. That was odd. Steve worked full time now and wasn't supposed to get off for a few more hours at least. Had he taken off early as well to be with Soda? It didn't seem all that unlikely. However as he entered the house he only saw Two-Bit lounging on the couch.

"Hey," Two-Bit said, glancing over at him. He checked his watch. "You're out early."

"Yeah, boss let me go a little early today," Darry confirmed. He glanced around the otherwise empty living room. "Steve here?"

"No," Two-Bit said slowly, giving him a blank look. "Why would…" He trailed off as realization dawned on him. "Oh! We borrowed Steve's car earlier. He's gonna walk over a get it after work."

"Ah," Darry said knowingly. He sat heavily in his recliner. "So it was a good day?"

"Yeah, a pretty good day." Two-Bit didn't quite meet his eyes as he spoke.

"What did you guys do?" Darry prompted.

Two-Bit shrugged. "We hung out on the porch for a while and then went for a walk around the neighborhood. We stopped by the DX to talk to Steve and then came back here. He said he was gonna go lay down after all that. I think it took a lot out of him."

Darry nodded. "But he seemed okay? 'Cause he got sick last night but he seemed better this mornin'."

"Yeah he seemed fine… mostly," Two-Bit said slowly.

"Mostly?" Darry prompted, raising his eyebrows at Two-Bit.

Two-Bit sighed. "Well, he kinda had a minor incident at the gas station."

"What happened?" Darry kept his voice steady as he spoke. Truth be told, he would have been surprised if it had been a completely uneventful day.

"We had been walkin' for a while, so I thought it'd be good to stop and rest. We were near the DX so we stopped there to say hi to Steve. But… Soda wouldn't even go into the garage, he just hovered in the doorway the whole time. And when Steve offered him a seat inside the garage he all but panicked and tripped over himself trying to get out of there."

"Did he say why?" Darry asked.

Two-Bit shook his head. His expression was completely serious as he went on. "He just said that he felt overwhelmed. But you shoulda seen his face. He was… terrified for a minute. His eyes were unfocused, it was like he wasn't even here for a second." They were both quiet for a minute. Then Two-Bit went on. "You know, ever since we found out he was comin' back, we've all told each other to be careful with him 'cause we don't know what he's been through. But I feel like those words didn't have much meaning before now. We really _don't_ _know_ what he's been through. You know? Like even as bad as we make it seem by sayin' that… somehow I think it's so much worse than we can even begin to imagine."

Darry nodded. Sometimes Two-Bit made so much sense it was scary.

"I don't want to push him too much about it right away," Darry said slowly, leaning back heavily in his recliner. "I mean, this time last week he was still a prisoner, you know? But I think eventually we will need to know what happened to him."

Two-Bit nodded. "I think that's a good idea. I think it'll be better if we have an idea of what might set him off. 'Cause I got no idea what set him off at the gas station."

"Thanks for bein' here with him today," Darry said looking over at Two-Bit seriously.

"Of course, Darry," Two-Bit answered, sounding a little surprised. "Even if you hadn't asked me, I still woulda come over today."

Darry smiled at him. He knew that it was very true. They had all missed Soda these past few years. If it weren't for work and school they'd all be here with Soda right now.

"Did he eat today?" Darry asked.

Slowly Two-Bit shook his head. "I offered him lunch but he said he wasn't hungry. He's been holed up in his room ever since."

Darry frowned, finding this troubling. "He really shouldn't be skippin' meals."

Two-Bit shrugged. "It's hard for me to justify tellin' him what to do after what he's been through."

Darry nodded. He could understand that logic. But after what Soda had told him last night about being sick a lot over the past few years Darry just wasn't comfortable letting Soda go without food.

"I'm just gonna go check on him," Darry said as he stood up. He made his way down the hallway, finding once again that Soda had left his door ajar. Clearly he didn't want to feel contained anywhere. "Soda?" he called carefully. He didn't like the idea of sneaking up on his brother. After no response Darry slowly pushed the door open.

Soda was sprawled out on the bed with his head turned away from the door, the covers pushed down to the floor. Darry stepped into the room, studying Soda carefully. For a moment he looked peaceful. Then his head turned and Darry saw with concern that his features were tensed up in fear. He moaned and the rolled on his side, curling in on himself almost protectively. Then very suddenly he screamed. It was an ear shattering, raw scream of terror that Darry had never heard from him before, his voice cracking as his body shot up into a sitting position and his eyes flew open.

"Soda!" Darry yelled as he rushed forward on pure instinct. Clearly that was a bad idea though because in a panic Soda immediately pushed himself to the far side of the bed, letting out a yelp of fear. "Soda," he repeated more gently this time. Soda's eyes were wide open and he was gasping for breath as he whole body shook. But his eyes weren't focused, seeming like they were looking right through him at something else.

"What happened?" Darry turned to see Two-Bit in the doorway, looking startled and confused.

"I dunno," Darry said shaking his head as he turned back to Soda, carefully keeping his distance. He had his hands out in front of him trying to put his brother at ease "Soda… hey Soda, look at me. It's okay, little buddy. You're okay, you're home now."

The fog in Soda's eyes started to fade. He looked around and seemed to really start to take in his surroundings. Darry stayed very still until Soda's eyes finally fell on him.

"Darry?" Soda whispered.

"Yeah, I'm right here," Darry assured him gently.

Soda swallowed and his lips moved like he was going to say something but no sound came out. Darry wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Soda and comfort him. But he couldn't. Even though Soda was right here in front of him it was still like he was a million miles away. In that moment Darry felt as helpless as he had when Soda was missing. What could he possibly do for his brother right now?

"Soda, you okay?" Two-Bit asked slowly as he carefully walked into the room, stopping beside Darry.

Soda looked over at him, but didn't say anything. His entire body was still shaking and his gaze fell down to stare at his hands in his lap. Darry couldn't stand this sight. Soda had always been so happy and full of life. It was painful to see him this way now. Carefully he sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn't miss the way that Soda flinched as the bed creaked with his added weight.

"Soda," Darry said slowly, his voice almost pleading. "It's just me. You know I'd never hurt you, right?" Soda continued to stare down at his hands. Darry felt his heart twist. "Please Soda, just talk to me."

There were several long moments of silence and Darry reminded himself to be patient. He was quickly realizing that Soda didn't always answer right away and sometimes he just needed to organize his thoughts for a few minutes. Patience had never come easy to Darry though. He noticed Two-Bit open his mouth to say something but Darry discretely shot him a look to just wait a moment.

Finally Soda slowly inhaled and exhales a breath before looked up and focused on Darry. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"What are you sorry for?" Darry asked slowly. He tried to meet Soda's gaze, but Soda wouldn't quite look right at him.

"I forgot where I was for a second," Soda mumbled, looking back down. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Darry assured him, though that wasn't the kind of answer he had been hoping for.

"You know, you don't have to keep apologizin', Soda," Two-Bit spoke up. His tone was oddly gentle. "None of this is your fault."

"He's right," Darry agreed. Soda only nodded silently. Darry studied his brother's face, trying to read his features but all he saw was an emptiness that never used to be there before. He sighed. "You hungry? You didn't eat lunch."

"Oh," Soda said as if he had just realized that. Slowly and carefully he slid himself to the edge of the bed until he was sitting next to Darry. He paused. Darry had the urge to reach out and embrace his brother, but he was afraid of the reaction he would get. He was about to stand up when suddenly Soda spoke again. "I used to only eat once a day. If that." He shrugged one shoulder. "I guess I kinda forgot that's not normal."

Darry felt his stomach drop at this piece of information. It wasn't hard to tell that Soda hadn't been eating well these past few years. His appearance made that painfully obvious. But hearing Soda put it into words like that was simply heartbreaking. Food was such a basic human necessity. Darry could remember back when their parents had passed away and he had just gotten custody of his brothers. Money was especially tight for those first few weeks as they tried to get their finances in order. They were living just off of Darry's one job and Soda's part time work at the time. Darry could remember cutting back on his portions of food in order to make sure Soda and Pony had enough to eat because he couldn't stand the thought of his brothers having to go hungry.

At the same time though Darry felt a small amount of relief to hear Soda say anything at all about what happened, however small the detail. He knew it wasn't going to be good for Soda to keep it all bottled up and they would need to know what happened to him eventually. This seemed a small step in the right direction anyway.

"C'mon, I'll make you somethin' to eat," Darry said gently after a long pause, standing up.

Soda stood up and followed him from the room. He headed for the bathroom while Darry went into the kitchen. He was deep in thought and had almost forgotten that Two-Bit was still there and when he spoke from the doorway of the kitchen Darry gave a start.

"You know, when he talks like that I got no idea what to say to him."

Darry glanced back at him. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"I mean, what _can_ you say?" Two-Bit went on. There was anger bubbling just below the surface of Two-Bit's perceived calm. "That it's okay? 'Cause it sure as hell ain't."

Darry heard the toilet flush down the hall. He sighed. "No, it ain't," he agreed. "All we can do is be there for him. Try to treat him normally and maybe someday things will feel normal again."

Two-Bit only nodded as Soda came back down the hallway. He moved to the side so that Soda could enter the kitchen. Soda took a few steps into the room and then stopped, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking unsure what to do.

"How's a sandwich sound to hold you over?" Darry asked him. "We'll have an actual dinner once Pony and Steve get home."

"Yeah, that sounds fine," Soda said.

Darry turned and started pulling supplies from the cabinets. As he went for the ice box he glanced over and saw Two-Bit leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched Soda carefully. Soda was still standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring off at nothing in particular.

"Why don't you sit, Soda?" Darry suggested, nodding toward the kitchen table.

Something flashed across Soda's features in an instant, but Darry couldn't tell quite what it was. In the next moment Soda was backing up. "No, I don't want to," he said firmly, though his voice shook slightly.

"Okay, you don't have to," Darry said quickly, surprised by his reaction to the simple suggestion. He exchanged a concerned glance with Two-Bit. But despite Darry's own confusion he thought he saw a spark of realization in Two-Bit's eyes.

Soda had backed himself up against one of the counters on the other side of the kitchen. Two-Bit carefully stepped forward. "Soda… when you panicked at the DX it was right after Steve told you that you should sit down." He shot a knowing glance over at Darry.

"I…" Soda started but then his voice caught in his throat. Suddenly he looked trapped. He looked around the kitchen very quickly. "I-I need some air," he stuttered. In the next instant he had darted out the back door off the kitchen, letting it slam behind him.

Darry looked back at Two-Bit. "You go," Two-Bit told him. "I'll finish up making somethin' for him to eat."

Darry nodded. He took a deep breath as he slowly followed Soda outside. He was relieved to find that Soda hadn't gone far. He found him sitting on the back step, his knees up and his arms wound around himself protectively.

"Soda?" Darry said carefully.

Soda glanced back at him and then sighed. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"It's okay, Soda," Darry said gently. He sat down next to him on the step, careful to not sit too close. He hesitated. "Can you tell me what happened? Why you… acted that way when I asked you to sit."

"You didn't ask me to sit," Soda spoke softly, but he had a bit of a stubborn tone in his voice. He was staring down at his hands again. "You _told_ me to sit."

Darry nodded. That made marginally more sense he supposed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Soda sighed heavily. "I know."

There was an awkward silence for several minutes. Darry studied Soda. He seemed tense but more than that he seemed lost. After a few minutes he closed his eyes and lowered his head, resting it in his hands, looking utterly defeated.

"Soda," Darry said slowly. "We want to do everythin' we can to make you feel okay here again. But if we don't even know what you'll be sensitive about…" He let the thought hang, hoping that Soda would get his meaning.

Soda was quiet for several more minutes as Darry willed himself to be patient. Finally he straightened up, staring out across the backyard. "I just… I can't talk about it, Darry." His voice was small, no more than a whisper. "Not now. Not yet. It's still fresh, it still feels too real."

"Okay, little buddy," Darry said gently. "Just… don't keep us in the dark too long, okay?"

Soda nodded silently, and then ran his hands over his face tiredly. "It's just… so much to take in, you know? After all this time I honestly didn't think I'd ever be back home again. And it all happened so suddenly."

"I know this isn't easy for you," Darry said sympathetically.

"But… shouldn't it be?" Soda said, turning and making eye contact very briefly before dropping his gaze back down. His tone was pleading. "Easy, I mean? All I ever wanted was to come home. It's only been a day and I'm already falling apart though."

"You were gone for four years," Darry pointed out evenly. "You were held captive for almost three and a half years. That's not something you get over overnight, Soda."

Soda simply nodded. after a moment Darry leaned back on his hands, making himself more comfortable. Maybe there wasn't anything he could say to make this better, but at least he could be here for Soda. He would sit here with him all night if it meant that he didn't have to feel any more pain.

"They…. they would tell me that I should sit," Soda said quietly after several long minutes of silence. "When they would bring me into the room to…" His voice cut off very suddenly. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. "They would tell me that I should sit like it was a casual thing."

Darry nodded, understanding what he was trying to say. It was pretty obvious that Soda had been hurt while he had been in that Vietnamese prison. Tortured even. Just thinking the word make Darry feel sick to his stomach. No one deserved that, and no one deserved it less than his little brother. What Soda had meant was that the phrase had been triggering because it had been said to him before he was tortured.

"Okay," Darry said evenly. "I understand." He wasn't sure what else he could say to that.

Soda glanced over at him briefly, looking a little unsure. But he didn't say anything. They lapsed into silence again. Darry was beginning to realize just how loud Soda's silence was though. Before he had left for Vietnam Soda could never be described as quiet or shy. Really more than anything, at this point it was Soda's silence that really spoke volumes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Steve walked up the street toward the Curtis house after work. It had started to rain, the frigid water quickly soaking the leather jacket that he had on over his DX uniform. The water was washing the grease from his hair, causing it to hang limply down across his forehead. He had the collar of his jacket turned up against the wind and his shoulders hunched with his head down, but it didn't do much to help.

As he walked Steve realized very suddenly that it was the first time in a long time that he had actually walked by himself. He knew that since returning from Vietnam the others that been worried about him. And he knew that a few months after he had returned when he had landed himself in the hospital with alcohol poisoning it hadn't helped matters. Since then the gang had hardly left him alone, especially Two-Bit. Two-Bit had basically become his shadow and under normal circumstances he would have been walking with him. But now they had Soda to worry about. Steve remembered the adjustment back to civilian life being difficult. And he knew it was going to be so much worse for Soda.

As Steve finally approached the Curtis house he immediately spotted two figures on the porch and the dull glow of cigarettes. As he got closer he could see Two-Bit leaning back against the house while Soda was leaning on his elbows which rested on the railing of the porch. He held a cigarette loosely in his lips and his hands were outstretched into the rain, looking at it was a sort of odd fascination.

"Hey," Steve greeted as he launched himself up the stairs and under the cover of the porch's roof. He shook his head, letting the water fling itself off of his hair much the way a wet dog would do.

"Hey," Two-Bit responded casually looking over at him. Soda didn't move. "You look like a drowned rat."

"Gee, thanks," Steve said sarcastically as he walked over to where the two stood. He pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket only to find that it had soaked through. He cursed as he lazily tossed the ruined pack over the railing and into the grass. "Can I bum a cancer stick?"

"Sure," Two-Bit said. He pulled a pack out of his jacket pocket and tossed it the short distance to Steve who caught it easily.

As Steve went to lite up Soda finally shook the water off his hands and turned, leaning up against the railing as he took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked off the ashes. He looked over at Steve almost as if he had just noticed that he was there. "Hey, Steve."

"Hey, Soda," Steve returned from the side of his mouth as he finished lighting up his cigarette, trying to ignore the delayed response from his friend. He took the stick between two fingers and exhaled. "How was the rest of your day?"

Soda shrugged. He turned his head back toward the rain, a faraway look in his eyes. Steve looked at him expectantly for a minute before he figured out that was as much of a response as he was going to get. It was a little disheartening. Steve exchanged a look with Two-Bit, who shrugged one shoulder, giving him a look that said that he was at a loss as well.

The three stood around quietly smoking for a while. The rain started coming down harder. Then Steve heard a rumble of thunder in the distance. He automatically tensed at the noise. It had been years since he had been on the frontlines in Vietnam, but still the rumble of thunder still reminded him of the sounds of the battlefield.

"C'mon, let's go in," Steve said suddenly, tossing down his cigarette butt and stepping on it. Two-bit followed suit, but Soda had returned to his spot looking out into the yard and didn't appear to have heard him. Steve stepped a bit closer to him. There was another rumble of thunder, this one a bit louder than the last. "C'mon, Soda. Let's go inside."

Without looking at him Soda slowly shook his head. "No… not yet."

"But, Soda…" Two-Bit started, but he never got to finish.

Soda suddenly turned and in an instant he was hurrying down the porch steps and out into the pouring rain. He didn't have a jacket on, just his jeans and a short sleeved t-shirt. Steve could only stare for a moment. Lightening flashed across the sky as Soda came to a stop in the middle of the front year, looking upwards and letting the water wash over his face.

"What the hell is he doin'?" Steve wondered out loud.

Two-Bit shrugged. "I don't think he's seen much of outside in the past few years," he said flatly.

They simply watched Soda for another few minutes. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky followed by a groan of thunder and little too quick for comfort. Steve felt impatient to get inside, but his instincts didn't want to leave Soda behind.

"C'mon, Soda, get your ass in here!" Steve called a little more sharply than he had intended.

Soda responded to that a little too quickly to this, immediately turning and walking back toward the porch. His features were more tensed than they had been a moment ago and suddenly Steve felt a little guilty for snapping. Soda walked back up onto the porch, his clothes completely soaked through but he seemed to take no notice of that. He looked to Steve almost expectantly, as if waiting on instruction on what he should do next. Soda's mood had switched so suddenly it was a little scary.

"Sorry, but you're gonna get sick if you stand out in the rain," Steve mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets moodily.

Soda nodded silently, a distant look in his eyes that unnerved Steve.

"C'mon, you could both use some dry clothes," Two-Bit prompted gently as he led the way back inside.

The three filed back into the warm dry house. Soda hesitated inside, looking around a bit confused, unsure. He looked over toward Two-Bit as if looking for direction. "Should I..." He let the thought hang.

"Yeah, go change, buddy," Two-Bit answered easily. Soda nodded then turned and headed down the hallway. Steve watched him go, lost in thought until Two-Bit grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around to face him. "Hey, you gotta be more careful with him." His voice was stern, almost scolding. It was very out of character for Two-Bit of all people. Though Steve had to admit that over the years he had become more responsible, almost like Darry in a way.

Steve glared at him. "What were we supposed to do, leave him out in the storm like that?" Thunder boomed, louder this time and Steve involuntarily flinched, glancing over at the window uneasily.

"Maybe," Two-Bit shot back with a shrug as he dropped his hand back down to his side. "What harm was it doin'?"

"If you haven't noticed he's not in the best shape right now," Steve pointed out sharply. "He looks like a strong wind might knock him over. You want him to get sick on top of everythin' else?"

"Yeah we'll you didn't have to yell at him," Two-Bit said.

"He ain't a child," Steve said with exasperation.

"No, but he's been through hell for three and a half years and he's been home for exactly one day. So maybe lighten up on him, huh?"

"What's goin' on?" Darry had just come out of the kitchen, surveying the scene with concern. "Where's Soda?"

"He was out in the rain, so he went to change his wet clothes," Two-Bit explained.

"What was he doin' out in the rain?" Darry asked, perplexed.

Two-Bit and Steve exchanged a glance, unsure how to explain Soda's strange behavior.

"I only saw rain one time." They all turned to see Soda coming out of the hallway, his hair still wet but he had changed into dry clothes. His eyes flicked around to each person in the room carefully. "I didn't have a window to the outside. But one time they were leading me though a courtyard. It was raining." He paused, his eyes looking to some faraway place that none of the rest of them could see. "I don't remember why, but we stood in the courtyard for a while, waiting for something. I had a fever at the time and the rainwater felt nice and cool against my skin. It felt… peaceful. For just a moment."

Steve was memorized. It was by far the most that he had heard Soda say about anything since he had gotten home, let alone about his time in captivity. Everyone was quiet, unsure what to say to that. Soda shifted uncomfortably, bringing his right hand over to rub his left wrist. Steve's eyes were drawn to the scars that circled his friend's wrists. He had horrible images of Soda tied up in a dark cell flash through his head. It made him feel sick.

Steve was so lost in thought that when thunder boomed through the house again, he visibly jumped, his eyes automatically searching for an enemy as his hands instinctively reached for a rifle that wasn't there. He cursed loudly as he quickly collected himself again.

"You okay, Steve?" Two-Bit asked, concerned. The whole gang had seen how Steve got around loud noises, such as thunderstorms. Everyone except Soda, that is. Steve glanced over to see Soda looking at him with surprise and confusion.

"Yeah, fine," Steve mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Darry moved over to the window and looked outside at the storm that was brewing. "I hope the roads aren't too bad. Pony should be driving home soon."

"I'm gonna go change," Steve said, realizing his clothes were still damp from walking over from work. He started toward the hallway and then hesitated. In the past Steve knew that he could just go into Soda's room and borrow clothes without Soda even giving it a second thought. He had done it on many occasions before. But now things seemed different somehow. He looked at Soda. "Do you mind if I borrow some dry clothes?"

Soda just looked at him for a moment, his features unreadable. "Yeah, that's fine."

Steve nodded and then headed down the hall. In Soda's room he grabbed the first pair of jeans and the first t-shirt he could find, quickly changing out of his wet clothes. After he was done he turned and gave a start as he saw a figure in the doorway. Since the Curtis house had become a house full of boys they hardly bothered with closing doors.

"Jesus, Soda," Steve sighed as he tried to calm his nerves. "Scare the life outta me why doncha?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Soda said slowly.

"It's okay," Steve said, taking a steadying breath. "Just… make a noise sometime, okay?" Soda nodded. They were quiet for a minute and it felt terribly awkward. Steve couldn't remember there ever being a time where he felt awkward around Soda. "Was there somethin' you wanted?"

Soda looked up, making eye contact with Steve for what felt like the first time since before they had left for Vietnam. Somehow his eyes looked different. Instead of happy and laughing they looked older and tired. There also seemed to be a deep sadness behind his eyes.

"Are you really okay?"

Steve gave a start. It wasn't at all what he had expected to hear from Soda. "What do you mean?"

Soda studied him, his gaze so intense that Steve shifted uncomfortably under it. "The way you jumped out there…" He let the thought hang.

Steve shrugged. "Yeah, it was nothin'."

"It sure didn't look like nothin'," Soda said steadily.

Steve opened his mouth and then closed it again. What was he going to do, complain to Soda of all people about the war and the effect that it had on him? He had only been over there for a year. He had fought, survived and then come back home. The same couldn't be said for Soda. The war had taken so much more away from Soda than he could even begin to imagine. Four years of his life were taken from him. Compared to that, Steve's time in Vietnam had been a cake walk. What right did he had to complain?

"I ain't that fragile, you know," Soda said after a minute as if he had read Steve's mind. "I know I didn't have the same kind of… experience as you did. But I understand what it's like out on the battlefield. I was there too."

"Yeah, but… that was a long time ago," Steve said slowly. "It's been years for both of us since we were on the battlefield. It just… doesn't seem worth talkin' about anymore." _Especially considering what you went through._ He didn't say that out loud though.

Soda nodded, but suddenly he looked troubled. "Does it… get easier?"

Steve just looked at Soda, slow to comprehend what he was really asking. Then he sighed as it dawned on him. He made his way over to the bed and carefully sat at the edge. "My first couple days back were a mess," he said quietly. "I didn't sleep, I was angry all the time, I was snapping at everyone. Mostly I was mad. I had just found out that you were missing in action. I didn't know that before. No one told me." He paused. "But more than that… I didn't know what to do with myself anymore. Suddenly I had free time and no idea what to do with it. Suddenly every moment of my day wasn't already planned out and no one was tellin' me what I should be doin'. It was disorientin'."

Soda slowly walked more fully into the room. He sat down next to Steve on the bed, looking at him with a sort of fascination. The way he looked right at him told him that he knew exactly what Steve was talking about. Steve paused, but Soda didn't say anything. So he went on.

"It wasn't easy, but eventually I started to get into a routine again. I got back to work and I spent my free time over here with your brothers and Two-Bit. They supported me a lot. But it was still hard." He hesitated, wondering how much he should tell Soda. He decided that he didn't want to go into too much detail. He didn't want to frighten Soda with how bad it had actually been. Or how close he had come to ending things himself, however accidental it had been when he had woken in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. "But time went on. And I started figuring things out. And I got used to civilian life again. So yeah, it does get better. You just gotta give it some time."

Slowly Soda nodded his understanding, looking a bit thoughtful. Steve reflected on the fact that this was the most he had ever talked about his experiences in relation to being drafted to fight in Vietnam. It was something he had always avoided talking about at all costs, and the rest of the gang seemed to respect that he didn't want to talk about it. Soda was different though. Soda would always be different.

"Okay," Steve said, satisfied. He stood up, but Soda didn't move. "Now, c'mon. I bet Darry's got dinner almost ready."

Soda gave him a weak smile. And in that brief moment of normalcy Steve could just glimpse the boy who left Tulsa four years ago. "Yeah, bet you're right."

Soda reached out and Steve grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. But as Soda straightened up, a strange look came over his face, almost like a grimace. He paused, looking a little startled though Steve couldn't tell what had bothered him.

"You okay?" Steve asked, concerned.

Soda hesitated. A moment later his expression cleared. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"What was that?" Steve persisted. Somehow he felt that something wasn't right.

"It was nothin'," Soda said with a shrug. "Just stood up too fast. C'mon, let's go see if dinner's ready." Soda started out of the room but paused in the doorway, looking back at Steve who hadn't moved. "You comin'?"

"Yeah, I'm comin'," Steve answered, walking over to where Soda stood waiting for him.

As they walked out of the room and back down the hallway Steve simply brushed the uneasy feeling that he had away. It was just easier to believe that everything was okay. Soda was home now. He had already overcome all odds and made it back to them. They would deal with any other issues that came up. The important thing was that the gang was together again.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note:**_ Thank you reviewers! I so glad you guys like this story so much. Please continue to review and let me know what you think! You are all awesome! The pace is going to start picking up soon, so stayed tuned!

* * *

**Chapter Six**

It was perhaps one of the longest days of Ponyboy's life, which was saying something considering how many days dragged on while Soda had been missing in action. But now Soda was home and Pony had spent the entire day at school and then at work. It seemed a horrible waste when all he wanted was to spend time with the brother that he hadn't seen in four years. But unfortunately just as he had learned that life had to go on while Soda was gone, he was quickly learning that life couldn't just stop now that Soda had finally returned to them.

Finally it was time to head home. But just before he was let off work a thunderstorm hit. If it had been any other day he probably would have just stayed at school and waited out the storm. But he didn't have that kind of patience today. He ran out to his car quickly, trying to keep from getting soaked. As he drove the rain only came down harder, forcing him to slow down on the dark, slick roads. It was frustrating. A drive that normally took him about twenty to twenty-five minutes took him almost an hour.

"I'm home!" Pony called as he finally walked into the house.

"In here!" he heard Darry call from the direction of the kitchen.

Pony quickly shrugged out of his wet jacket and tossed it over the arm of the couch. He kicked off his shoes before crossing the living room and entering the kitchen. He couldn't help but smile at what he saw. He was used to seeing Darry, Two-Bit and Steve gathered around the dinner table. But with Soda there too it just seemed so much more complete.

"You took too long, we started without you," Two-Bit said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Shut your mouth," Darry scolded good naturedly, rolling his eyes at Two-Bit. He looked back over at Pony. "We made you a plate."

"Thanks," Pony said. He walked over and slid into the seat where his plate sat next to Soda, who gave him a small smile.

"How was school?" Darry asked as Pony started into his dinner, feeling starved.

"It was fine," Pony hedged with a shrug. He hadn't been able to pay much attention in his classes today as he thought of Soda and how much he wished he was home with him. "Nothin' special today, just lectures." He glanced over at Soda who seemed to have focused back on eating his dinner. "How was your day today, Soda?" There were several beats of silence. Pony glanced around at the others in the room, all of which was looking at Soda with vague concern. "Soda?" Pony prompted again carefully.

"Huh?" Soda said, looking over at him.

"How was your day?" Pony repeated.

"Oh," Soda said, sounding a little surprised at the question. He considered it for a long minute, to the point where Pony wondered if he was going to answer at all. "It was good. It's good to be home again."

"It's good to have you home," Pony said, grinning despite himself.

The tone was much lighter after that as Darry questioned Pony about school and work while Two-Bit and Steve occasionally spoke up. Soda kept glancing around to show that he was paying attention, but kept quiet. Pony tried not to think too much of that. Surely with time Soda would get more comfortable with being home again.

After everyone was finished Pony got up and began to collect the dishes as usual. But he was surprised when he reached for Soda's plate – which was more cleared than it had been the night before – that Soda picked it up himself.

"I'll do the dishes," Soda said.

Pony gave a start. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Soda said, reaching out for the plates in Pony's hand. "You had school and work all day."

"Okay," Pony said slowly, unable to come up with an argument for that. Carefully he handed over the plates he was holding, a little unsurely. Soda looked awful frail. But he managed to balance them fine as he made his way over to the sink.

"I'll help," Two-Bit volunteered for perhaps the first time in his life. He stood up and gathered the rest of the dishes and brought them over to the sink as well.

Slowly Pony sat back down in his seat. It was encouraging to see Soda trying to be normal though. As he glanced over at Darry and Steve he could see that they were glad for this as well.

They were all a bit mesmerized by Soda's activities. He seemed a bit awkward and clumsy as he went to move the dishes into the sink. Two-Bit placed a drinking glass down on the counter that Soda didn't notice until he shifted and knocked it off the counter with his elbow. It hit the ground and shattered loudly.

Soda jumped at the noise as he yelped in surprise. "_Cái tháng chó dẻ!" _There was dead silence as everyone stared at Soda. It took him several minutes to seem to realize that everyone was looking at him funny. He looked back at them, his expression unreadable. "Sorry."

"What did you say?" Steve finally asked.

Soda looked over at him almost curiously. "I said sorry," he said a little louder.

"No, before that," Steve said shaking his head. Soda just stared at him. "Did you just speak Vietnamese?" he finally asked bluntly. That was when it dawned on Pony that was what probably happened. After all, out of all of them Steve was the most likely to at least be able to recognize Vietnamese. To Pony it had just sounded like gibberish.

Soda opened his mouth and then closed it again. He seemed to be thinking about it very hard. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and a little horse. "Yeah… I did." He looked embarrassed.

Pony blinked, confused by this new development. It was a strange thing to try and get his mind around. Soda hadn't even graduated high school. But just now he had spoken Vietnamese on pure instinct, without even thinking about it. If Pony hadn't heard it with his own ears he wasn't sure that he would have been able to believe it.

Soda seemed uncomfortable with everyone staring at him, so he bent down and started to pick up the shards of glass off the floor, piling them carefully into his hand. Darry was the first to shake himself out of his shock.

"Here, I'll help you," Darry said gently as he got up from the table.

"It's okay, I got it," Soda mumbled, not looking up at him.

Darry moved over to help him anyway, grabbing a dustpan and brush from a nearby closet before crouching down next to Soda and beginning to sweep up some of the smaller pieces. At this everyone took the hint to busy themselves. Two-Bit turned back to the dishes while Pony and Steve turned back to the table, though Pony couldn't help but keep glancing over at Soda out of the corner of his eye. Soda stood up and walked over to the garage can with his hands cupped around the broken glass. He let the glass slide out of his hand and into the bin. As he turned to go back to help Darry, Pony caught a flash of red.

"Hang on, Soda… I think you're bleeding," Pony said as he stood up and walked over to him. Soda froze and looked at him with wide eyes. Pony began to reach for Soda's hand, but seemingly on reflex Soda pulled his hand away from him. Pony sighed lightly and pointed. "See?"

Soda stared down at his hand, almost as if he didn't comprehend what he was seeing. There was a gash down the middle of his palm and blood was quickly pooling in his hand. No one dared to move, but everyone's eyes were back on Soda. Finally Soda lowered his hand and wrapped it in the fabric at the bottom of his t-shirt, the blood quickly staining the white material.

"Soda," Darry said gently. He stood up slowly and Pony didn't miss the way Soda cringed away from him slightly. Clearly Darry noticed this as well by the pained look on his face. "We can clean that and bandage it."

"Oh…" Soda said vaguely as if that idea hadn't occurred to him. His eyes looked unfocused. Finally he looked over at Darry. "Yeah, okay."

Darry nodded. "The stuff's in the bathroom." He turned and started out of the kitchen. After watching him go for a moment, Soda followed.

There was silence among the three boys in the kitchen for a minute. Finally Two-Bit sighed and turned back to the sink, flipping on the faucet and letting it run over the dirty dishes. This seemed to break the daze the other two were in. Steve sighed heavily as he leaned his elbows on the table and cursed under his breath.

"Yeah… he's had a rough first day back," Two-Bit agreed, obviously responding to Steve's cursing.

"What do you mean?" Pony asked, feeling his stomach drop a bit.

"It ain't been an easy adjustment, kid," Two-Bit said tiredly, glancing over at him with an uncharacteristically serious look on his face.

"How bad?" Pony asked, dreading the answer.

He listened as Two-Bit described the incident at the DX, the nightmare, Soda running out of the kitchen on Darry and the scene in the rain. He felt vaguely sick to his stomach as he quietly listened to Two-Bit's explanation.

"But… it'll get better with time… doncha think?" Pony said once Two-Bit had finished, a hint of pleading in his voice.

"Yeah, maybe," Two-Bit said slowly.

"It was less than a week ago when Soda was still a prisoner of war in what we can safely assume to be horrific conditions," Steve spoke up very suddenly. He looked over at Two-Bit and Pony. "But when he spoke to me earlier after he saw how I reacted to the thunder he seemed almost normal. I got a glimpse of who he was. He just needs some time to get back to that person."

Pony smiled lightly, feeling encouraged by this. Steve seemed to understand this better than the rest of them did. And if he thought that Soda would be able to move past this, Pony felt that was something solid to hold on to at least.

A few minutes later Darry came back into the kitchen.

"How is he?" Pony asked, looking over at his oldest brother.

"He's holdin' it together, I guess," Darry said quietly. He sat down heavily at the kitchen table. "I cleaned his hand as best I could, but he didn't want any peroxide. So I just bandaged it up. It wasn't very deep anyway. He went to change his shirt."

"Why wouldn't he…" Pony started, but trailed off as it dawned on him why Soda wouldn't want peroxide on his wound. "Oh. 'Cause it stings?"

Darry nodded. "He didn't say as much, but that's what I figured."

Pony glanced over at Steve who had buried his face in his hands with his elbows resting up on the table. He remembered the story he had told of the solider they had found who had escaped being a prisoner of war. Pony was beginning to understand that pain was probably how the Vietnamese soldiers tried to get what they wanted out of Soda. The thought made him feel physically sick. He knew they'd all do anything they had to in order to spare Soda any more pain, even the minor pain of the burn of peroxide on an open wound.

"I'll be right back," Pony said suddenly.

He hurried out of the kitchen and headed for his bedroom. It took some rummaging, but he found what he was looking for buried in a drawer in his desk. He took a deep breath as he walked back out of the room, hoping and praying that this would have the effect that he hoped that it would.

As Pony walked back down the hallway he saw that Soda had emerged from his own room and had sat down on the couch, his newly bandaged hand cradled in his lap. Darry and Two-Bit were still in the kitchen working on the dishes, but Steve had come out into the living room, perched against the wall next to the couch almost like a sentry.

"Hey, Soda," Pony said gently with a smile. He sat down on the couch next to his brother and then held out the small book in his hands. "This is for you."

Soda looked at him a little confused before he slowly reached out and took the book from him. "What is it?" His voice was quiet, almost childlike. Obviously he was still shaken from what had happened in the kitchen.

"It's a photo album," Pony told him. Soda carefully flipped open to the first page. It was a photo of Pony on his birthday, just a few months after Soda and Steve had both been deployed. "That was my sixteenth birthday," he explained. "Darry and Two-Bit pitched in and bought me a camera as a present."

"Sixteen?" Soda repeated still staring down at the photograph.

Pony remembered the moment pictured. After he had opened his present Two-Bit had immediately swiped the camera, declaring that he had to demonstrate how it worked. Pony was laughing in the picture and Darry could be seen in the background half cut off with an exasperated look on his face. It was just the three of them there that day. But Pony also remembered receiving a letter from Soda just a few days before which had put him in good spirits. It had been the next to last letter he had received from his brother.

"Yeah," Pony confirmed. He glanced over to see that even Steve had leaned over to look at the picture.

"So..." Soda said slowly, seeming to think something over hard for a moment. "You're nineteen now?"

Pony gave a start, but thankfully Soda didn't seem to see it since he wasn't looking at him. "Yeah," he answered softly. "I'll be twenty in June."

Soda only nodded. He flipped to the next page. There were quite a few pictures from that birthday. It had been then that Pony had decided that he wanted to put a photo album together to give to Soda when he returned. That was before Soda went missing in action. There were many photos from before they had received the letter about Soda. After the letter the photos became fewer and farther between. It was much harder to keep up with the project when they weren't even sure if Soda would ever make it back home.

Pony watched as a Soda carefully studied each photograph, offering up explanations for most. As they got toward the end Darry and Two-Bit joined them, offering up their own insights into some of the pictures. Soda seemed mesmerized by each photograph, never looking up or commenting. Then he got to a particular photo near the end and stopped.

Pony leaned over to look at it. "Oh, that was my-"

"Graduation," Soda finished, speaking for the first time. His voice sounded wistful.

Pony smiled sheepishly as he looked down at the picture of him in his cap and gown on the front porch. "I looked ridiculous in that getup."

Soda looked up at him almost in surprise. "You didn't look ridiculous," he said. "You looked smart." He paused, glancing back down at the picture. When he looked back up there was a careful smile on his face. "Pony... I'm so proud of you."

Pony was a little too stunned to speak for a moment. Then he broke into a wide grin. "Thanks."

"I mean it," Soda said earnestly, his smile growing. There was just a hint of life behind his eyes, but just that small hint was enough to cause Pony's heart to lift up in his chest. "We always talked about how you were the one who was gonna make somethin' of yourself. And despite... everythin' you're doin' it." Soda's voice faltered slightly and Pony knew that he was referring to his own disappearance.

"It wasn't always easy," Pony admitted.

"Yeah well you made it look easy," Two-Bit spoke up with a laugh.

Soda lifted an arm a little unsurely. He hesitated. Then he slowly wrapped his arm around Pony, giving him a light squeeze. Pony leaned into his brother, realizing they were almost the same height now and how much bonier he felt then he did before. Even so, it was like he was fourteen again, reveling in the comfort of his big brother.

"I did it for you, Soda," Pony said softly. "I knew it's what you would have wanted." It was the first time he had spoken that truth out loud. He wanted to just give up so many times. But he never wanted to be a disappointment to Darry... or Soda. Especially Soda.

They straightened up after a moment. Soda continued to flip through the graduation photos. Darry had managed to snap a decent picture of Pony getting his diploma. There were several pictures taken after the ceremony outside the school. A picture of Pony with Darry, then with Two-Bit and even with Steve. The final photo was of all four of them that they had gotten one of the other students to take for them. Pony stood in the middle, his cap in one hand and his diploma in the other. Then Soda turned to the next page, which was blank.

"That's it," Pony said a little guiltily. After graduation the project had fallen to the wayside. It was just too difficult to keep on openly hoping.

Soda gave him a sad smile. "That's okay, Pony," he assured him. "I really appreciate it."

Pony smiled back. It was still amazing that after all this time Soda was back home with them. He may be a little damaged, but Pony knew that they could handle anything now that they were all back together again.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **The Vietnamese phrase that Soda says is translated to the best of my abilities using only google. Languages like Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, etc. can be harder to translate due to different interpretations. And if you are curious, the phrase is supposed to say "Son of a bitch."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Sorry this chapter is a little late. But it's a bit of a longer chapter, so hopefully that makes up for it. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate it and it gives me great motivation. Please don't forget to keep on reviewing and letting me know what you think!

Also, I don't know about other countries, but to those in America: Happy Veterans Day! Today we appreciate any and all veterans of the military. I do not write this particular storyline lightly, and everything that I have learned from my research on this subject makes me even more grateful to those who serve their countries, whichever county that may be.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Soda woke very suddenly in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. He had woken so abruptly that parts of his nightmare bled over into reality. He had to blink several times to clear away the dark cell and be able to see his bedroom instead.

Slowly he sat up in his bed. The bed still felt strange to him. His chest was heaving, gasping air into his lungs which were burning as if he had been holding his breath. He carefully put the back of his hand up to his forehead, trying to gauge if he had a fever or not. His fever had gone up and down several times over the course of the past couple days. He realized after a moment that his hand was shaking badly. He dropped his hand back down and stared at it. His hands were scarred and callused, worn looking. Carefully he rolled his fingers up into fists.

He lifted his head and looked around the room. He had the urge to run, the adenine from his nightmare still present in his system. After a moment he realized that he could actually leave the room. Having the freedom to simple get up and walk out of a room was still taking some getting used to.

Carefully he slid off the bed and made his way to the door. As usual it was left open a crack and he was simply able to nudge it open. The house was silent as he moved through the dark space. The hallway felt too small and too dark to him, causing his heart to jump uncomfortably. He hurried along it, stumbling slightly and putting one hand on the wall for balance. He felt marginally better as he turned into the open living room, but he nerves still felt on edge. He continued through the living room and quietly pushed open the front door. He was met by a cool breeze of early March air. He still felt amazed by the feeling of cool, fresh air against his skin.

Soda took a deep breath as he walked forward in his bare feet, the wind whipping through his short sleeved t-shirt. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could almost hear Darry lightly scolding him for being outside in the cold without a coat, but he just couldn't bring himself to feel too concerned about that right now. He liked the feel of the cold, the shiver it sent through his body. It made him feel alive in a way that he hadn't felt for the past three and a half years.

He leaned up against the railing, resting his elbows on top of it as he ran both his hands over his face. He had had nightmares most nights since he had left captivity. He could still hear himself screaming his voice raw, he could still vividly remember the paralyzing fear of not knowing if he was going to survive one day to the next, he could still remember the mind numbing pain that he had felt when the guards had tortured him. He didn't want to think about it, but somehow the thoughts kept on appearing in his mind uninvited. He could only hope that as time went on the memories would start to fade. More than anything he wanted to just forget.

Suddenly the door behind him scraped open. Soda instantly tensed every muscle in his body as he squeezed his eyes closed, trying very hard not to think about what that noise used to mean.

"Soda?"

Soda took in a steading breath before he opened his eyes and turned his head, looking over at Ponyboy.

"Hey, Pony," Soda said, hearing how his voice shook ever so slightly. "What're you doin' up?"

Pony just shrugged. "You okay?"

Soda sighed as he looked away, gazing out across the yard at nothing in particular. He had been asked that a lot since he had been released. What did that mean though? How was "okay" supposed to feel? When prisoners would ask each other if they were okay there was the connotation that it simply meant that they were asking if you were still alive.

"Yeah, I mean… I guess," he finally said vaguely. He let out a light cough.

"You know, you really shouldn't be out here without a coat or somethin'," Pony pointed out slowly. "You'll get sick."

"Yeah, I know," Soda said. His voice was strained. "I just… please I just need a few more minutes." He realized his tone sounded pleading, like he had been afraid that Ponyboy would grab him and forcibly drag him back inside. Which was a strange thought. This was his little brother after all.

Pony looked just as surprised by his tone. "Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands in a gesture like he was trying to soothe a panicking animal. "It was just a suggestion." Soda could hear a flat note in his voice.

Soda almost groaned out loud. He hadn't meant to make Pony feel bad. "Sorry," he murmured, hanging his head.

"It's okay," Pony said gently. He took a step closer, looking unsure. "We just wanna help you, Soda."

"I know that," Soda said quietly. _Maybe there is no help for me. Maybe I'll never be like I was before._ He didn't voice his fear though.

"Do you mind if I stay out here with you?" Pony asked slowly, guarded. He sounded like he was bracing himself to be sent away. But Soda didn't want that.

"Yeah," Soda said, though he didn't look over at him. He didn't want to see the hurt he knew was on his younger brother's face as he awaited an answer. "Please stay."

"Okay," Pony replied, a hint of a smile in his voice. Was he smiling? Soda couldn't bring himself to look and see. He was too afraid that he would still be able to see the disappointment on his little brother's face. He hated coming back home after all this time and being a disappointment to his brothers. He had come home for them… hadn't he? "Soda?" Soda jumped slightly, realizing that Pony had been talking to him while he had been on his internal ramblings.

"Huh?" Soda muttered.

"Couldn't you sleep?" Pony asked. Soda was now aware that Pony was next to him, leaning up against the railing while still leaving him some space. He was grateful for the space, even though he didn't want to be grateful for it.

"Yeah, I slept some," Soda said. It was the truth anyway.

"Oh," was all Pony said.

They lapsed into silence. Soda never knew what he was supposed to say when this happened, which had been happening quite a bit over the last couple days since he had been home. Everything felt so strange and foreign to him. This was his home but he felt so out of place all the time. He had been gone for four years, and that was four years that he would never get back.

"The sun's comin' up," Pony said quietly.

Soda looked over at Pony quickly, surprised by the sudden comment after so much silence. For once Pony wasn't looking at him though. He was gazing listlessly out across the yard and at the horizon in the distance. There was a light smile on his face. Soda was momentarily memorized by the look of wonder in his little brother's eyes. He followed his gaze, looking out to where the sky was just beginning to lighten just above the horizon. At first he didn't see anything special in the sight, only the sky beginning to lighten. But as he continued to watch he began to see the colors. The pinks and purples that gave way to oranges and golds. As the sun continued the rise the bleak grays and blacks of the night sky were pushed to the west by clean, clear blue.

"Wow," Soda said quietly.

"Yeah," Pony agreed. Soda gave a small start. Honestly he had forgotten he was there.

Even before Vietnam Soda couldn't remember ever just standing still and appreciating a sunrise. He had been much more of a night owl in those days. He had a hard enough time getting up for work in the mornings and ran late most days. Ironically he was up early everyday now but he had nowhere to go. He also realized how much of the last few years had been dominated by shades of grey punctuated only by the harsh red of human blood on pale skin. It made him appreciate the colors even more.

"Soda? Did you hear me?"

Soda shook his head as if he could simply shake the memories away. "What?"

"Darry will be up soon," Pony repeated. "I was gonna go inside and start on breakfast. Do you... wanna come?" He spoke carefully, obviously concerned of what kind of reaction he was going to get.

"Yeah, okay," Soda agreed, mostly just in an attempt to make Pony happy. Though he did have to admit it was pretty chilly out.

Soda turned and followed Pony back into the house. Back in the kitchen Pony gave Soda little tasks to help with breakfast. He had tried making eggs the first morning back and had ended up getting distracted and then burning the eggs. Since then he had settled for the smaller task of setting the table, being extra careful not to drop anything or knock anything over. Three and a half years of inactivity had made him very clumsy.

"Mornin'," Darry mumbled as he walked into the kitchen just as they were finished setting up breakfast. He glanced around curiously at the two of them. "You're both up early. You sleep okay?" Even though he made it sound like the question was for both of them, he looked at Soda when he said.

"Yeah, fine," Soda mumbled, sitting down at the table. A minute later Darry joined him. Soda could feel him looking at him, but he just stared down at the table. Eventually Pony brought over breakfast and Soda was aware of conversation occurring over top of him. Soda felt a fog settling over him and he simply allowed it. It was better than thinking. Thinking only caused more pain these days.

"Soda?"

Soda jerked out of his fog, looking around. Both his brothers were looking at him and he couldn't figure out which one had spoken to him. He looked down at his plate, realizing he had eaten half his breakfast. Time had kept passing while he was in his fog. He looked back up and saw that both of his brothers had already cleared their plates.

"I've got a big test in my first class today," Pony told him. "So I'm gonna head in early to get a little more studying in."

"Oh. Okay," Soda said.

"Good luck today," Darry told him as Pony stood up. "Drive safe, kiddo." Soda noticed how Darry had used so many more words than he did and sounded so much more genuine. Soda spoke mostly in monosyllables these days. He was aware of it but he didn't know what else to say.

"Thanks, I'll see you guys tonight." And with that he had disappeared out of the kitchen. A minute later Soda could hear his car start up and then pull out of the driveway.

Darry stood up and began collecting the dishes.

"Darry, I can do that," Soda said as he stood up.

"You sure, little buddy?" Darry asked slowly.

"Yeah, I ain't helpless," Soda mumbled, somewhat annoyed. He didn't need to be treated like a child. "You go get ready for work. I'll clean up."

"Okay," Darry said with a light smile. "Thanks."

"Sure."

Soda enjoyed having a task to keep him busy. He concentrated on each plate and scrubbing it clean. By the time he finished each dish, glass and utensil was spotless. He felt some form of accomplishment because of this. At least there was something he could still do.

"Hey, I'm heading out." Soda turned to see Darry standing in the doorway, fully dressed with his tool belt slung over his shoulder. He must have taken longer to do the dishes than he had thought. "Two-Bit should be by in a little bit."

"Yeah, okay," Soda said. As much as he didn't want a babysitter, he didn't want to be left alone even more so he didn't dare complain. Even if he didn't talk much, he still enjoyed the company of his friends.

"You take it easy. I'll see you tonight." And with that he turned and he too was gone.

Soda took a deep breath. There wasn't much to occupy himself with when everyone was gone. He remembered what Steve had said about having a routine to help adjust back to civilian life, but without work it was hard to find a routine to successfully fill his days. Thankfully the past few days Two-Bit had been able to help with that. Soda just had to find something to occupy himself with until Two-Bit managed to drag himself out of bed after working a night shift. He moved into the living room, thinking maybe he'd try turning on the television for a bit. Perhaps he could find something lighthearted to watch like cartoons. But before he sat down he heard Darry's truck coughing in the driveway. He stood and listened as Darry tried to start it several times. Finally out of curiosity he moved to the front door, pushing open the screen and stepping back out onto the porch.

As he stepped outside he peered over to see Darry climbing down out of the truck, looking distressed. He walked around to the front of the truck and popped the hood, looking down at the engine quizzically.

"What's wrong with it?" Soda asked, looking over from where he stood on the porch.

Darry looked over at him in surprise, obviously not having heard him come out of the house. He shook his head, looking back down at the engine. "I dunno." Darry never had been very good with the mechanics of vehicles. He looked back up at Soda. "Do you wanna... take a look? See if you can tell what's wrong with it?" He spoke carefully and unsurely. Soda realize though not for the first time that since getting back no one had seemed comfortable asking anything of him.

"Uh... Yeah. Sure." He started forward but stopped when Darry put up his hand and spoke again.

"_Please_ go put on a jacket first," he implored gently. "You're gonna catch your death out here, Soda."

"Oh. Right." He turned back toward the house and glanced down. He supposed he could use some shoes as well.

After he had grabbed a jacket and pulled on his shoes he headed back out of the house. He descended the steps carefully and then made his way over to the truck. He stood next to Darry, looking down at the engine. It was familiar. He had lost track of how many times he had fixed this truck. He was probably around twelve when his dad had first started showing him how to fix it. Even so he shifted a bit uncomfortably and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What do you think?" Darry asked after a few minutes of silence.

Soda shifted again. He cleared his throat, went to speak only to find his voice appeared to be stuck in his throat. He cleared his throat again before he was able to speak. "It could be the spark plugs. Or the carburetor. Steve would probably have a better idea." Suddenly he really didn't want to even touch the engine.

"What about the battery? I've been having problems with that before."

Soda immediately stiffened, feeling a horrible knot tie itself in the middle of his chest. "Could be." His voice was tight but Darry was so intent on the task he didn't appear to notice.

Darry started reaching forward into the engine. "Maybe if we-"

"No!"

_As the solider came at him a third time he made a panicked noise as he pushed back with his feet, toppling the chair over so that it crashed to the floor. It was a futile attempt at escape since he was still tied to the chair. His hands were tied to the bars on the back of the chair and when he fell his left hand ended up smashed between the bar and the concrete floor. The pain was so intense he wondered vaguely if it had broken. Two soldiers were immediately on him, hauling the chair back upright with him still tied to it despite his weak protests._

_"No!" Soda screamed as the guard with the electrical cords came at him again, raw fear in his voice. He was desperate. _I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die, not like this,_ he kept repeating to himself. He knew that Daniels' cell wasn't far away and he had been able to save him once before. He knew his begging wouldn't sway his torturers, but perhaps he could somehow get Daniels' attention. Maybe he could help him again before they killed him. "Please!"_

There was panic in Soda's voice as he stumbled backward. Darry was saying his name but he could hardly hear him over the sound of his own echoed screams in his head. He could almost smell his own burnt flesh again. His stomach turned violently as his heart pounded painfully in his chest.

Next thing he knew he was sitting on the ground, with his knees up protectively and his back up against concrete. His hands were thrown up over his head and he was gasping for breath.

"Sodapop? Look at me. Please it's okay. It's Darry. Just look at me."

Cautiously Soda looked up, half afraid of what he'd find. But all he saw was Darry crouched in front on him, looking worried and a little frightened. He realized that he was sitting in the grass, his back up against the concrete of the porch. The cold air brushed up against his face, anchoring him in the present.

"That's it, Soda," Darry said slowly, somehow sensing that he had come back to the present. "It's okay. See?" He held out his hands as if to show that they were empty. "No one's gonna hurt you now, little buddy." Soda took a deep breath and slowly lowered his hands, though he noticed his body was shaking. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Soda opened his mouth and then closed it again. He could remember too vividly being tied to the chair, the blinding pain of being electrocuted by the car battery, how even hours later when he was alone in his cell his muscles were still contracting abnormally.

Slowly he shook his head as he dropped his gaze back down to stare at the ground. "I... I can't." His voice was barely more than a whisper.

With a furtive glance up at his brother Soda was able to see the disappointment in his face that he tried to hide. He felt his heart sinking in his chest. Then he leaned over to one side and was sick. He heaved several times, emptying his stomach of all its contents.

"Oh, Soda," he heard Darry say quietly.

Soda wanted to cry. He wanted to curl up on himself right there on the ground and just start bawling. But he didn't. More than that… he suddenly realized that he _couldn't_. It was like he didn't remember how to just let his feelings out anymore. There was a place in his heart where he knew sadness should be, but there was a strange numbness instead.

Soda was only vaguely aware of Darry helping him to his feet and guiding him back into the house. He felt like he was in a daze. Suddenly he was sitting in the recliner and Darry was pushing a glass of water into his hand, saying that he looked as pale as a sheet and he should drink something. Mechanically, Soda followed the orders he was given because that's what his instincts told him to do, sipping on the cool water. Every time he had been given water while he was in captivity it had been lukewarm.

Finally the fog was starting to clear in his head. He heard Darry in the other room talking on the phone. He wasn't sure who he was talking to. He had probably called Two-Bit or Steve about his truck or a ride to work. Soda stared down at his hands which were still cupped around the glass and concentrated on taking deep breaths. His heart was still beating hard in his chest, almost painfully even though his other senses seemed to have calmed down. He closed his eyes and hoped for some sense of calm.

For three and a half years all Soda ever wanted was to be able to go home. But now that he was here he couldn't help but wonder if he was really supposed to come back. If he really still belonged in this place. If he could ever be who he was before, or if the years of physical and mental torture had killed something inside of him that he would never get back.


End file.
